Merging Worlds
by artificialmasquerade
Summary: What happens after future Trunks returns to his own time and defeats Dr. Gero's creations?
1. Construction

**A/N: **I'm rewriting this story. After some great advice, I took a break and reviewed the story. This is actually my third rewrite and I'm happy with how it's turned out. There will be major changes, but the plot and characters will remain the same. Please, feedback is much appreciated.

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I do not own DBZ. If I did, Trunks would have a much bigger role. So much so that the title would have to be switched to "The Glorious Hero Trunks" rather than "Dragon Ball Z." :D

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><p>I was watching with detached interest as a team of burly men loaded beam after beam of solid steel onto a Capsule Corp. machine. They were delivering the building materials to the top of the tower that loomed overhead. Somehow, the state-of-the-art amusement park at the tower's peak had survived the androids' onslaught of destruction. West City itself had remained miraculously intact while I was training in the past. I shuddered at the thought of what could have happened if the defeat of Cell had taken longer.<p>

"You idiot! Steady! I said **steady!**"

My head snapped up to see the hovercraft carrying the beams up the tower and one of the metal rods hung precariously on the edge. A woman walked by me pushing a baby in a carriage. She also stopped when she heard the shouting and followed my line of sight, letting out a scream as the beam fell with a final groan of the lift.

Slowly, almost lazily, I raised my right hand, my left still securely in the pocket of my purple Capsule Corp. jacket, and easily caught the beam. While its mother cowered in fear of her fate, the baby was gaping at me and gave a squeal of delight as I balanced the beam on my palm. I glanced sideways at him and smiled back as I rose into the air. I continued my steady ascent until I was eyelevel with the man operating the hovercraft. His face was identical to the infant's gaze of amazement and wonder. I placed the beam gently back on the lift and flew slowly towards the man. He continued to stare as I inched closer but suddenly flinched when I reached forward, hitting the wheel and causing the machine to jerk left. I swiftly steadied the vehicle.

"Easy, man," I warned in a friendly manner, keeping one hand gripping the machine as I grabbed the thick ropes on the cockpit's floor.

"Y-You're the Briefs kid," the man stuttered, recognition lighting his gradually calming features. My silence was my affirmative as I unwrapped a length of rope and threw it over the beams.

"Page forty-three, paragraph four of the operator's manual states that you should tightly secure all goods on the lift before moving it." I flew under the lift and tied the rope before flying to the far side and doing the same. As Capsule Corp.'s heir, I knew every product we manufactured backwards and forwards.

"How're you flying?" the man called, ignoring my words.

"Testing prototype hover boots."

The lie came easily enough. Quickly growing bored of the situation, I looked towards home and caught sight of the smoke floating from the kitchen chimney. My stomach growled in response to my growing hunger. Before the man could ask about my strength, which I didn't have a fabricated answer for, I shot off towards Capsule Corp. and my mother's cooking. Though it paled in comparison to my late grandmother's food, there was sure to be a lot of it.

I touched down and walked up the newly repaired steps of the main building on the huge compound. I stepped through the doorway as the glass doors slid apart and gave a nod to the robotic receptionist standing at the foyer's front desk. Of all the buildings in West City, Capsule Corporation was by far the fastest with repairs.

"Welcome home, Mr. Briefs," the robot greeted. "Ms. Briefs is in her lab and will be up for dinner shortly."

At the mention of my mother, I grabbed a strip of cloth from my pocket and tied my light violet hair back before she had a chance to complain about how long it'd become. I climbed the stairs to the living room and removed my boots. I slung my jacket over the back of the couch, knowing I'd get chewed out later for not putting both of them where they belonged. Stretching my arms as the air conditioning cooled my tense muscles, I strode into the kitchen with the intent to grab a bottle of water and maybe a bit of food as I waited for my mother to finish her work. She would be upset if I ate without her so I had to ease my Saiyan appetite by thieving quick bites while she couldn't see me.

However, I froze as I entered the very modern kitchen, decked out in Grandmother's culinary memory. A young woman was bustling between the large stove and kitchen table, carrying dish after dish of delicious-smelling food to the latter. Her black hair, tied back with a red ribbon, stuck upwards like an unruly jet of flame from the top of her head. She briefly glanced in my direction and a twinge of recognition twisted my already angry gut. There was something familiar in her kind yet calculating dark eyes and the way her thick shock of bangs protruded wildly from her forehead. Though, try as I might, I couldn't place her.

The girl, as if truly noticing my presence for the first time, did a double take on her way to the stove and paused. As she scrutinized me, I returned the favor. She was an inch or two shorter than I was and could've been no older than my age of twenty. She snapped out of her staring to reach her slightly muscled arms around her slim figure to untie the apron she was wearing.

"You're Trunks then?" She lifted the curve-erasing apron over her head and folded it neatly. I could only nod in response as I gave her another once-over, this one more appreciative than the last. She pulled the ribbon from her hair with one hand and ran the other through it. It settled into a disorderly halo around her head. She pursed her lips to blow a stray strand from her eyes. I found it difficult to look away.

"What are you doing in my kitchen?" I blurted, trying to break the mounting tension growing in the room. The question sounded harsher than I had intended. I saw something flare behind her dark irises and felt my face burn in response.

"Trunks!"

I flinched involuntarily when I heard my mother's excited shout. Bulma Briefs, my mother and president of the entire corporation, came striding into the room. She had her blue hair pulled back in its signature bun and her matching eyes surveyed the room, flicking quickly between me and the girl.

"I see you've met my new technician assistant," she said at last, a devious smile creeping over her aging face. For some reason, her smirk caused my blush to deepen. "Trunks, Dakaran. Dakaran, Trunks," she introduced.

I offered the girl, Dakaran, my hand and smiled in apology of my boisterous mother. Dakaran placed her hand in mine and I tried not to pull back from the contact. Her skin was cool to the touch and her grip was quite strong for a woman, both of which startled me.

"Nice to meet you, Dakaran."

The girl bowed her head in response and politely smiled back at me. I was momentarily dazed and distracted from my thoughts on why Mother suddenly needed an assistant.

"This girl is brilliant. Though her formal education was interrupted by the androids, she studied under a prestigious doctor before-" Mother cut herself off, a rare occurrence. I raised my eyebrows in question.

"-before the clinic was blown up the day after the android's defeat by a gang of apocalypse-enthused rebels," Dakaran finished for her. "Eventually, by recommendation, I ended up here where your mother has graciously accepted me."

I didn't know what to say to that. Oh, I had several questions, but none appropriate to the situation. I didn't want to risk upsetting this girl by inquiring further into her past, especially when all it would take to gather the information was a trip to the records room.

"Yes, well," continued my mother, never one to leave silence anywhere. "How about dinner?"

My stomach shouted out my reply before my mouth could and I looked down at it, embarrassed. I felt my face reddening for the second time when I heard Dakaran's light chuckle.

"Yes, let's eat," she agreed.


	2. Dinner

**A/N:** So, I apologize for the wait and the pretty much uneventful chapters. The action will begin soon.

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><p>Dakaran<p>

I took another small bite of the large steak on my plate, desperately trying to recall the etiquette lessons my older sister Penshie made me sit through when we were growing up together in the palace academy. Oh, she could tear a man's head off with one finger but Other World forbid she not be a _lady_ while doing it...

I smirked at the memory and glanced up at my current company to remind myself I wasn't on planet 76 anymore. The loud-mouthed, blue-haired woman named Bulma was consuming her meal with the utmost care, reminiscent of Penshie. The violet-haired boy sitting across from me, however, greedily gave in to his Saiyan appetite. I stared at him wistfully, wishing I too had not grown up in a palace, restricted and hindered by my status. He, even though a prince and heir to immeasurable wealth, was free. While I, a first-class Royal Guard Elite from a third-class family, was sent to backwoods worlds like this one on retrieval missions.

Now reminded of my less than desirable situation and a little angry, I blew a stray strand of my never-growing hair from my face. I'd been on this planet for over a year with strict orders to not disrupt its natural balance. I was to gather information and possibly bring Prince Vegeta back with me. All that time spent in the clinic with death and suffering- something my race had long-ago given up- eventually landed me here at the Capsule Corporation. I quickly discovered that my target was dead. Just how his fate came about was shrouded in a thick cloud of mystery I had yet to penetrate.

I was, it seemed, stranded here with Prince Vegeta's mate and their hybrid offspring who was, by no means whatsoever, fit to rule in his grandfather's place. Judging by the scouter scan I had taken earlier, Trunks's power level was next to nil. His rippled physique, though admittedly pleasing to the eyes, was deceptive. The layers of muscle only truly gave him the power of ten extremely strong Earth men. Pitiful.

And his manners! True, the Saiyans were a brutal, savage-like race, but their pride and incredible battle skills kept their demeanor calm and collected. This boy was as loud and as haphazardly rude as his mother. Demanding what I was doing in [i]_his_[/i] kitchen... Penshie would send me through the atmosphere and to one of our planets moons if I behaved in such a way to a guest. The nerve of this guy...

I turned my head to the side and hid my scoff of disgust in a series of coughs, not all a part of my rouse. My supply of medicine for the frost virus- a farewell gift from the old overlord- was dwindling. I was taking smaller doses to stretch out the medication until my sister made it to the planet to replenish my stock. The lower dosage allowed the chill to creep through my flesh as the virus gathered energy from the heat in my blood to attack my vital organs. Circling ki through my veins was helping to keep my body from shutting down altogether, but even I couldn't keep it up for an infinite amount of time.

"Dakaran, are you okay?"

I blinked and turned my head in the direction of Bulma as her question broke through my brooding.

I coughed once more to clear my throat before answering with, "Yes, quite okay."

Thankfully, the woman didn't press the matter and rose, taking a handful of dishes with her to the sink. I looked after her uncomfortably, wondering what Penshie's etiquette was for this situation. Something told me I should follow and offer my services.

"You're a bad liar."

My head snapped straight at the accusation. I stared Trunks straight in the eye, one eyebrow raised in question. I had to summon all my self-control not to snap some harsh comment in retaliation. He was, technically, royalty after all.

"Excuse me?"

How dare he talk so boldly? It frustrated me all the more when he didn't look away but steadily held my gaze. He had been silent throughout the entire meal, only pausing long enough from stuffing his face to fill his plate before wolfing down mound after mound of food and now found his voice?

"You're not okay. You're a terrible liar."

I could only stare back, speechless at his audacity. Our earlier encounter had me believing he was a bumbling idiot, but clearly he had more backbone than I initially gave him credit for. What concerned me more, though, wasn't his sudden courage. No, it was the truth in his words that stung me to silence. This boy had pinpointed one of my very, very few weaknesses. I couldn't effortlessly spit out an entire fabricated story and keep it straight like Penshie could; one of the many reasons our father favored her over me, one of the many reasons I was sent away on this dismal mission.

This boy had managed to find one of my insecurities and, what was worse, his innocent, unknowing, concerned gaze somehow made his clueless words emotionally pain me. No one had ever given much thought to me. Everyone had avoided me since the day I was born. Rumors of my birth, of how the entire hospital I was born in was torn apart, ran like wildfire through the many taverns of the planet. It was even said in hushed whispers that King Vegeta had ordered my death because he feared my power and, if it weren't for my grandfather, I wouldn't have made it through my first night alive. But here was this half Earthling, half Saiyan boy caring for me when he had no reason to. He didn't even know me.

Bewilderment, frustration and exhaustion are what I blame for my next actions. I suddenly stood up, my chair upturning with the force of the motion. It hit the tiled floor with a loud clatter. Bulma paused where she was loading the dishwasher and Trunks froze, staring at me with renewed alarm. Without a word, I stalked out of the kitchen and found my way to my new room in the dark. Thankfully, I had paid more attention to Bulma's tour than I thought was necessary at the time. The maze of hallways turned out to be more difficult to navigate than I expected but I soon found my door and shut it behind myself gratefully.

I leaned against the white-painted wood and slid to the floor, bringing my knees up to my chest. King Vegeta was dying. Prince Vegeta was already dead. If I couldn't think of another plan soon, our race's only option was a Halfling boy who had virtually no power and no Saiyan pride. If anything, he was more human than Saiyan. I sighed heavily. What was I going to do?

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><p>Bulma<p>

I watched Dakaran's hasty exit and then turned my eyes on my son. He looked completely bewildered. I sighed and walked to the upturned chair, setting it right again. At my movement, Trunks looked over at me and stood up slowly.

"I'm going to go train," he announced, his tone serious.

"Trunks!" I called after him as he left the kitchen. He ignored me and continued walking at a determined pace. Just like his father... I shook my head as he disappeared from my sight. Even though he'd come back from the past a thousand times stronger than when he'd left and defeated the androids without batting an eye, he still insisted on training. He didn't trust the peace the world had settled itself into.

I continued cleaning up from dinner, puzzling over my little boy, when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned, expecting to find Trunks. Instead, I was facing the dark-haired girl I hired last week. After getting her affairs in order, she had arrived today for her permanent stay at my company. She was indeed brilliant, but that wasn't the only reason I hired her. A small part of me saw something in this girl that reminded me of my old friend Goku. It could've been the way her wild hair fell in spikes around her face, or her fierce, yet gentle eyes, but I hoped that whatever it was would help pull Trunks from the melancholy, brooding state his mind had fallen into. After all, when Goku was alive, he not only helped save the world several times, but he helped his friends as well.

I turned my thoughts back to the present moment. Dakaran had her hands clenched at her sides and her head slightly inclined, avoiding eye contact with me.

"I'm sorry," she said at last. "For leaving in such a manner. It was rude of me."

My heart immediately melted at the words. I was, not for the first time, reminded of Goku when we were kids and he did something he felt guilty for, which was rare. He'd bow his head in the same sheepish manner and look just as uncomfortable. How could I possibly be angry at this girl; especially when I wasn't really angry in the first place?

"Don't worry about it, Dakaran. I'm sure my knuckle-headed son did something that warranted your quick escape."

I gave her one of my dazzling smiles. She looked up at me and smiled back weakly. I repressed the urge to sigh in exasperation. She had such a regal, polite manner that usually had her apologizing often for her self-perceived wrong-doings. She was a strong, confident girl- that much I could see behind the spark in her eyes. But I had quickly learned in the week I knew her that she was the first to point out her faults and promptly reprimand herself for them. The pain such a self-detrimental attitude caused her was clear on her very pretty face. Maybe Trunks and Dakaran could help each other...

"Did you want to speak to me about something?" I asked, returning to my cleanup.

"N-no," she replied before she began carting dishes from the table to the sink.

I turned to her and raised and eyebrow at her stutter. "Dakaran, you know you can trust me. I'm not just your boss, I'm your friend too." I meant what I said. The girl had no one else left on this planet after the android's reign.

"Honestly, Miss Briefs-"

"Bulma," I corrected.

"-Bulma, there's just a lot on my mind; a lot of new things to take in."

I nodded my understanding. "Speaking of new things, how about we go shopping tomorrow?" I asked, an excited smile creeping over my lips. "My favorite mall just reopened and I want to treat you to a new wardrobe." After all, I added in my mind, I'm getting too old for all the good stuff they sell nowadays.

"That really isn't necessary, Bulma," she said, an uncomfortable grin twisting her face.

"Nonsense! We leave at noon."

My word was final.


	3. Fall

Trunks

After looking down the hallway to be sure it was clear, I used my Saiyan speed to get as far from the records room as I could. Once safe on the other side of the building, I slowed my pace to a thoughtful walk.

_Dakaran M. Akora, age 22, grew up in a small mountain village to the north. Village destroyed by androids. Family; presumably dead. Akora studying at Northern U during attack; only survivor._

I shuddered as I went over my mother's interview notes in my head. The lined notebook paper in the girl's file went on the list the name of the doctor, Oreg, who she apprenticed under as well as the different characteristic traits she exhibited during the sit down two weeks ago. Dakaran's file also contained a recommendation letter from the doctor. He praised her knowledge of various technical workings as well as her quick learning of all things medical. After showing up on his doorstep, bruised and bloodied, she stayed on at his clinic as a nurse, more or less. She tended to patients medically as well as taking on the duties of clinic cook. She also repaired the equipment when needed. Dr. Oreg insisted that without her, the clinic would've eventually crashed under the sheer number of so many patients flooding in from the inflicted damage of the androids. But, he had written, with the androids gone and the patient numbers dwindling drastically, he dismissed her from her duties claiming that it was a waste of her potential.

My head was spinning with these thoughts. Dakaran's family- her entire village- had been wiped out. She then spent years surrounded by the evidence of what her people went through. Surely, that kind of existence steeped in death, blood and loss would have lasting, obviously negative effects on a person. But Dakaran, in the short week she had been here, had been nothing but friendly. Sure, she was withdrawn and very guarded around me but didn't seem off. Her mind was still all there.

I looked up when the scent of plants and soil hit my nostrils. My feet had carried me to the indoor gardens that housed my grandparents' favorite pet dinosaurs. I spotted Dakaran and blushed, realizing it was no mere coincidence that I had been drawn here. My subconscious mind had sense her ki and followed it to this location. The desire to figure out the puzzle that was this new person in my life had led to an almost obsessive thinking of her. I had tried telling myself it was natural: The androids had not been gone long. I was merely suspicious of the newcomer. But, as I leaned down rested my elbows on the path railing to get a better view of her in the grass, I couldn't help but wonder if my mother had another motive to hire this girl. After all, she wasn't bad to look at...

A warmth pooled in the pit of my stomach and I tried to ignore it but failed as I had been for the past week. Since that first dinner, this feeling had occurred every time I was near Dakaran. I couldn't place it. The sensation was completely foreign to me. There was this invisible pull that kept leading me to her no matter where I was, whether it be in thought or action. I couldn't understand it. I had this desire, this **need**, for a girl I hardly knew.

"C'mon Rexy!" Dakaran suddenly called in an exasperated tone, her voice instantly shaking me from my train of thought. I smiled as I watched her play nurse to a sick T-Rex that was currently hiding behind a tree that couldn't quite cover his face. The giant reptile roared weakly in response to the large needle the small girl was brandishing fearlessly. Its fearful quakes sent small shivers through the ground.

"It's just a little shot!"

Rexy sniffled and ducked his head behind the topmost leaves. I shook my head in amusement and walked over to where she stood, one hand on hip.

"If you don't get over here in the next-!"

"Here, let me," I said, cutting off the rest of her angry threat as I closed the distance between us to grasp the needle. I paused for a moment, watching intently as her expression faded from frustration to confusion and then impassive as she relinquished the syringe to my care. The warmth in my stomach boiled to a rolling pitch before I quickly turned to hide my grimace. I wasn't in pain: I was ashamed of the thoughts that had run through my head at the sight of her delicate mouth twisting into the myriad of expressions.

I flew off and injected the shot into the dinosaur's thick hide before he knew what hit him. I was standing before Dakaran again in seconds, this time farther away by a few feet. Rexy yelped when the pinprick finally traveled through his nerves, reaching his brain and stalked off, sniffling. Dakaran was staring at me in disbelief. I looked back sheepishly, willing the thoughts to subside. It was inappropriate, I kept telling myself, and I hardly knew her. Better to banish that line of thinking now.

"How..." Her question trailed off into a violent fit of coughs. She placed one hand over her mouth and the other clutched at her ribcage, no doubt trying to keep it together as the forceful spasms had her bent double. I was at her side in an instant, her distress effectively throwing all dirty thoughts from my mind.

"Are you okay?" I asked, placing one hand tentatively on her back.

After a few more strong coughs, Dakaran straightened slowly, breathing a little heavily. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and shrugged off my grip. I stood there awkwardly as she recovered, not sure how to continue. The only other time that question had been asked to her during her stay, I had bluntly called her a liar. I'm not sure why I had accused her of such, but I chalked it up to confusion at the very new sensation she had caused in me. During that first meeting, it had shocked me considerably, perhaps even beyond a reasonable sense of manners.

"Y-yes, I'm fine," she replied at last. "Just a little cold," she added, seeing my raised eyebrows.

Some cold, I thought. No sickness I had ever had had me in that sort of state.

"How did you move so fast?" she inquired, clearly trying to change the subject.

I grinned, pride welling inside me a little. "I'm a trained fighter; probably the strongest in the world." I winced at the bold assumption. Though it was most likely true, my father's influence had rubbed off on me from my trip to the past.

"Trained fighter? Like, Tae Kwan Do?" Dakaran plopped down on the grass, intrigued by my answer. I sat down across from her, happy to oblige.

"Kind of. I'm trained in a _form_ of martial arts, yes, but not Tae Kwan Do."

"Really? What kind?" She was giving me her full attention, sitting with elbows on bent knees as her interlocked fingers held her chin up.

"I was taught by my friend Gohan, who quickly became my mentor. He was taught by his father Goku, who died of a heart virus before the androids. It's a mixture of the Turtle Hermit, Kami, and King Kai styles. Also, there are influences and methods formed by both Gohan and Goku during their various battles-"

"Wait," Dakaran cut in. "Turtle Hermit, Kami, King Kai..?"

"Roshi was an old martial arts master known as the Turtle Hermit. He trained Goku when he was a boy; as did Kami, a Namekian who was the guardian of Earth. King Kai is a being who resides in Other World and he trained Goku when he died."

"Right," she replied, brows knitting in confusion but, surprisingly, accepting the information.

I continued talking, the words falling freely from my mouth in a torrent. I had all these secrets about the Z Warriors clinging to my chest for months and it felt good to finally let it all go. I didn't care at the moment if I sounded like a complete lunatic to this girl.

"My mother has told you of the time machine she built, right?"

"It's her pride and joy," Dakaran responded.

I nodded. I wasn't sure if I should tell her what I was about to, but figured if she were going to be working and staying here, it'd be best to get everything out in the open now. After I got the basic story out, I could work on explaining everything. In fact, I was surprised she had stayed listening this long.

"I used it to travel back in time a year before my birth to warn the Z Warriors-"

"Z Warriors?"

"Earth's special forces; a team of very above-average fighters who protected the Earth from threats."

At her slow nod, I went on.

"Anyway, I warned them about the androids and gave Goku the medicine he'd need to combat the virus. He was the world's only hope, the strongest among the Z Warriors and the only one standing a chance against Gero's creations.

"But the time line sort of twisted when I traveled through it. I discovered when I returned on the date the androids were set to appear that Gero himself was now an android and he had created two others along with Seventeen and Eighteen. Another of Gero's creations, a biological android called Cell, arrived from yet another timeline to ingest Seventeen and Eighteen to reach his ultimate form. My father, being a very prideful and somewhat foolish man, allowed Cell to reach this form, nearly dooming us all."

"Wait, wait, wait," Dakaran said, putting her hands up in surrender. I supposed I had finally confused her enough. "Let me get this straight: This Goku was trained by a hermit, what I'm guessing is an alien who acted as Earth's god, and a being from the afterlife? Bulma explained to me about the dragon balls after I found the radar in the lab. So, I'm guessing Goku was wished back by them?"

"Correct." I was watching her closely, waiting for disbelief to flicker across her features. However, all I saw was confusion and a pure desire to understand.

"And he was your only chance you said. No one else was strong enough. That's why you went back in the past, to save them from the same fate."

"Uh-huh."

"You were trained by this man's son." The statement was phrased more as a question.

"Yes... Well, I did train extensively with my father when I went back in the past."

"So, where are these Z Warriors now?"

My face fell. "The fighters of this time died in an all-out battle with the androids when they first appeared. Gohan was the only to survive. Everyone else died."

"And the androids were defeated by Hercule Satan," she said with finality, eager to get away from the depressing topic of loss, for which I was grateful for.

"What!" I nearly shouted. "No! He only took credit for it! I used what new abilities and strength I gained in the past to defeat them."

Dakaran smirked and snorted as my indignant look dropped to a gape. I realized that she was toying with me. The numerous articles on Satan's triumph had angered me for weeks. Not that I wanted to be put in the spotlight any more than I was already for being Capsule Corp.'s heir, but still...

"I don't doubt that you did, in fact, defeat them. Satan once visited the clinic to boost morale among the patients right before I took my leave. Besides the fact that he was shamelessly hitting on me, I was intelligent enough to see through his _smooth_ exterior."

I grinned at the sarcasm in her voice as she rolled her eyes.

"That man paled at the sight of blood. He's a hopeless showboat. I always suspected he'd never be able to take on a fly much less twin killing machines."

Though I laughed at her comments, my mind was a whir of thoughts. This girl easily accepted my explanations with minimal questions and no skepticism. I was thankful for her open mind, but I thought there'd be at least some doubt. Either she was as intelligent as my mother and Dr. Oreg claimed her to be, or incredibly dense and, given our conversation, I highly doubted it were the latter.

"Can I ask you one question?" I couldn't help it. I had to find an answer to my pondering.

She turned her eyes towards me again, they haven drifted off to a baby dinosaur that grazed nearby. "Shoot."

"I'm just curious as to how you're so comfortable with all this. I thought talk of this magnitude would be enough for any person to write me off as an escapee from an asylum, yet you seem neither bothered nor phased in any way by what I've said."

She looked amused as she studied me and I very suddenly felt bare under her gaze. Not that I'd mind... I shook my head to clear at of the new wave of thoughts. Such thinking was very uncharacteristic and wasn't helping at all.

"Your grandfather revived the dinosaur population. Your mother invented a time machine. Bio-engineered humanoids tortured the planet. It's not so very hard for me to believe what you've told me. I take you to be a trustworthy person and sense no ill will or deception in your words. I've always believed there to be aliens out there." Her smile widened as she said this. "I believe you; plain and simple."

Once again, I found myself staring at this girl in wonder. She was certainly an enigma, an enchanting, alluring mystery that I hoped to puzzle out. There was something nagging in the back of mind telling me that there was more to it than her clarification. There was some other reason she so easily accepted my explanation. As much as I wanted to believe she was simply an open-minded, accepting person, I knew there was something more to her. There had to be.

* * *

><p>Dakaran<p>

I was getting terribly sick. I had to be. I mean, I was becoming delusional.

I was sitting on the lawn with Bulma upon her incessant nagging that I worked too hard and needed a break. We were in the backyard sitting on these impossibly bright yellow contraptions known as lawn chairs with the sun, also a disgusting shade of yellow, beating down on us. The woman had insisted I wear these strange, tiny garments: A bikini, she called the outfit. She went on and on about tanning and a _healthy summer glow_ to a point where I thought I'd rip her head off just to get some peace. She finally nodded off, sunglasses slightly askew and magazine drooping from her hands. I sighed in relief, enjoying the silence.

And then Trunks walked out of the gravity chamber across the lawn. The thoughts I had about his shirtless, spandex shorts-clad form can only be explained by delusion. I felt my cheeks grow hot and it wasn't the fault of the sun. His carefully-chiseled, tightly-bound layers of muscle shone with the sleek effort of his training. The strands of hair that had come loose from the piece of fabric tying the violet locks together stuck to his forehead and neck. I watched a bead of sweat as it traveled from his collarbone to his abdomen, studying the scar that was embedded into the flesh there. I wondered faintly where it had come from, but was quickly distracted as he began walking towards me, draping a white towel around his neck and chugging a bottle of water down in a few quick gulps. I nervously rearranged the large sunglasses on my face and ran a slightly shaky hand through my hair, berating myself the whole time. This was not how a first class warrior acted!

He stopped beside my chair and I suddenly felt very exposed in the revealing slivers of fabric I was currently donning. The heat of the outdoors was suddenly uncomfortable and I wanted nothing more than to wrap the large towel I was laying on top of around my body and run to my room. However, I stubbornly stayed put and acted as though I hadn't noticed him. I did glance at him though, trusting that the dark lenses covering my eyes hid my gaze. He stared at me for a few moments before swallowing, Adam's apple twitching with the effort.

"Is there-"

"Nice day-"

Both of us abruptly stopped, having spoken at the same time. He laughed nervously in the awkward silence that followed, waiting for me to continue. I bit my bottom lip briefly and remained quiet.

"Nice day, isn't it?" he began again, scratching the back of his head. His jerky movements made me realize I wasn't the only nervous one and wondered what his reasons were. I didn't know mine but thought that, whatever they were, they were completely ridiculous and unfounded.

"Yes..." I replied after a moment. We lapsed into silence again. For the first time, I felt the perspiration trickle down my neck and to the base of my back, making the base of my tail itch—well, where my tail [i]_used_[/i] to be...

"I was wondering-"

This time his sentence was cut off by a rather obnoxious snort from his mother beside me, who sat up in a panic. Her sunglasses slid into her lap and she looked around with wide blue eyes. She blinked a few times and snapped out of it when she saw her son standing there with a slight look of embarrassment on his face. I tried to hide my smirk of amusement.

"Oh, Trunks," she said sleepily, stretching, "you must be hungry. Give me two minutes and I'll make lunch."

"No worries, I'll do it," I told her while standing up, happy to have an excuse to leave. I stretched too, not realizing how stiff my body would be. I must have sat there for well over a few hours, I thought as I reached my hands above my head. I opened my eyes and saw that Trunks was still standing there, mouth slightly agape. I quickly reached down and grabbed my towel to wrap around myself as I had wanted to do earlier.

"What sounds good?" I asked, slipping on my shoes and heading to the house, knowing that he would follow and thankful that he was behind me so my blush would go unnoticed. Never had one person's gaze, much less a man's, made me feel so exposed and I couldn't quite understand it. I would have never felt this way a few weeks ago when I moved in. It must be the virus.

"Excuse me?" he asked, a hint of incredulity in his voice.

"For lunch, what sounds good?" I repeated. I was on the stairs now, heading to my room to change. He was still behind me.

"Oh, um..."

I rolled my eyes and turned to face him once I reached my door. What was this awkwardness that had grown here, between us? I hadn't exactly been comfortable around him before, but this new tension was ridiculous. I was just about to ask him as much too, when a beep sounded from behind the wooden door behind me. I froze. That noise came from my scouter. It meant someone was contacting me.

"So, surprise you then?" I said with a smile, probably louder than necessary. Trunks was staring at my door, a look of puzzlement on his face. "I'll call for you when it's ready."

I threw open my door and rushed in, shutting it behind me and trying to appear calm. I stood there, hand on the doorknob, until I heard his footsteps retreat. I sighed and then turned, diving on my bed and shoving my hand under the pillow. Once I felt my fingers curl around cold metal, I yanked them from the sheets and hooked the blue-screened device to the side of my head and hit a button.

"Dakaran reporting," I said breathlessly.

"Ah, she's alive!" was the sarcastic, amused replied of my older sister Penshie.

"You have impeccable timing, Pen."

She laughed. "Don't I always, baby sister?"

I reclined back on my mattress, relishing in the way to cool fabric soothed my burning flesh. "What do you want?"

"Ah, just checking in. The hibernation gas in this stupid pod malfunctioned. I have three weeks left stuck in here and was just wondering how you were doing."

Ouch. That has not got to be pleasant for her. Spending such a long amount of time cramped in that tiny space was maddening for even the most battle-weathered warriors. The least I could do was humor her, even though she nearly blew my cover. Plus, there was something I wanted to talk to her about.

"Pen, have you ever been nervous around someone? Like, uncharacteristically so?" I was toying with the string on my bikini, trying to keep from sounding too interested in the conversation I myself had initiated.

"What do you mean, Dak?"

I got up and opened my closet to look for a suitable change of clothes. Bulma's shopping trip consisted mostly of me trying on brightly-colored slips of fabric and modeling them for her. My wardrobe was now sickeningly colorful.

"I'm trained for every battle situation. I can scheme and plot and plan with the best of them. I know one person shouldn't make me so flustered with just a look. Not someone I've known for hardly any time at all. Tell me the virus is wearing at my senses."

"Dak, I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

I closed my eyes as I buttoned a pair of bleached denim jeans around my waist. I was confused, that's all; nothing more to it. I just had to tell Penshie and she'd explain it all away.

"The first time I saw him, I thought he was weak. His power reading was pathetic. But I couldn't help but think how good he looked and how kind his nature was. I was angry that he was so apparently useless, but I took pity on him.

"And then today... One look at him, a few uncomfortable words... Pen, what is this insanity?"

There was silence on the other end. I almost thought our connection had ended and I had been rambling to nothing but empty space. I swiped a hand across my brow and sighed in exasperation. I didn't like not knowing what was going on, especially within my own mind. I was crazy. That was it. Being on Earth for so long had ruined my brain.

"You know of how Saiyans find their mates, yes?" Penshie finally spoke, the amusement quite clear in her voice.

My brows knitted in confusion. "Yeah, it's instinctual, an instant knowing. But what does that have to do-"

I heard my bedroom door open and didn't hesitate to end my communication and stuff the scouter into a pile of jeans on a shelf in the closet. I finished pulling a shirt overtop my stomach and stepped out. Trunks was standing there, freshly scrubbed and dressed in his usual black sleeveless shirt and baggy pants. He was running a towel through his damp hair. I could smell his shampoo from where I stood across the room.

"I-I thought I heard you speaking," he said.

I raised an eyebrow, a little irked at the intrusion. "I got distracted while tweaking an experimental device. It's a habit of mine to talk to myself while working. Drives your mother nuts." I smiled, not at my joke but at how easily the lie came.

"Oh, okay." He smiled back as he retreated, shutting the door behind himself.

It felt as though my knees would buckle when he grinned at me like that. How could things change so drastically in an instant?

* * *

><p>Bulma<p>

I was sitting in the kitchen, enjoying a freshly-brewed cup of coffee, when Dakaran came tumbling down the stairs. I started with fright and awkwardly stood by the counter as she hoisted herself to her feet, holding her head and grimacing.

"Oh my goodness, are you all right?" I asked, rushing to grab a lunchbox icepack from the freezer.

"Thanks," Dakaran said as she slowly sat down on a stool at the counter. She took the icepack and gingerly held it to the part of her head that had hit the wall at the base of the steps.

"That was quite the tumble," I commented, somewhat amused now that I knew she was okay. I quickly looked her over and saw no obvious fractures. She was walking and function just fine. The only thing she seemed to have hurt was her head. I may have to send her to the medical wing of the corporation just to make sure she didn't have a concussion.

"Yeah, I wasn't watching where I was going. Must've slipped." She shook her head and blinked a few times.

I chuckled. "Well, listen, I think it'd be best if you went to the med bay for a quick checkup, just to make sure you aren't really hurt."

She looked at me in surprise. "But I have to make lunch."

"The health of your brain is more important that lunch," I said, confused as to why she was concerned about food. She just fell down a flight of stairs!

"But, Trunks-" The girl cut off her sentence as my son, as if on cue, entered the kitchen.

"Hey, I heard a loud noise. Is everything all right?" he asked. I didn't miss the quick glance he threw Dakaran's way. It was painfully obvious that he was trying to avoid her gaze. I could even see the small blush that crept across his cheeks- something he was trying to hide with his growing lavender hair. I was expecting friendship to blossom between these two, but this kind of affection was a twist of events, especially because it happened so fast. I never gave much attention to the thought of Trunks having a crush on anyone. I did wonder, though, if he was every going to find someone to spend the rest of his life with. Like his father, he seemed more interested in training. And, like Goku, he was intent on saving the world. Girls never seemed to fit into his schedule.

It was apparent that my little boy was growing up. I tried not to show the burst of emotional happiness that was bubbling inside at those thoughts as I answered him.

"Dakaran fell down the stairs. You wouldn't mind walking her to the med bay, would you, Trunks?" My quick mind was forming a little scheme. Maybe if I forced those two together...

"Fell down the stairs?" he asked incredulously. He openly stared at Dakaran, forgetting his shyness in his disbelief.

"I'm fine, honestly," Dakaran insisted, setting the icepack on the counter as she stood up. She took a few steps in the direction of the living room and began wobbling. She would've fallen forward if Trunks hadn't run to her side to steady her. She put her hand to her head once again, this time looking extremely pale. She closed her eyes slowly and her breathing became erratic.

"Trunks."

That was all I had to say. He scooped her up in both arms and I opened the door to the backyard for him so he could cut across it and head straight for the medical wing on the other side of the compound.

I shut the door and headed back for my coffee, deciding that I'd go check on her after I finished that cup. It was strange how she took such a drastic turn in so short a time. I never really studied anything medical, but I didn't _think_ concussions affected someone like that. I shrugged. Maybe they did. I wasn't an expert on them.

A new thought came to me: What if her fall wasn't merely an accident? What if she had some kind of medical fit that caused her to loose her balance and go toppling down the stairs? I wouldn't know until I went to the med bay and talked to the doctor there.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Sorry it took so long. I'm working on a thousand other things and school just ended and yeah... Sorry.

I want to explain something right now. It'll make sense when I reveal it later on, but to avoid some confusion now and to avoid someone yelling at me for how fast everything is going... The Saiyan mating thing that Penshie brought up? How it's instinctual? It's instant. Like, you see them and you know. However, Trunks wasn't raised among Saiyans with those ideas so he's clueless as to what he's experiencing and Dakaran... Well, you'll find out later on, but there are complicatons back home that prevent her from believing in such concepts.

Does it kind of make more sense now? I promise this story, though it focuses on the Trunks/Dakaran relationship, it's so much more than that. Just be patient with me, kay?


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